


Mirror

by UmbreonGurl



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Introspection, Spoilers, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmbreonGurl/pseuds/UmbreonGurl
Summary: If I am you and you are me, then who are we?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Mirror

She is no sailor and neither is he. The sea of souls continues to send them along regardless, and they find themselves drifting and floating wherever its waves may take them.

He is quiet. She is not. 

With two pairs of broken headphones, no sense of time, and no other company, the silence is oppressive. She can’t stand it, so she blabbers on about anything and everything until she runs out of things to talk about.

If he minds, he doesn’t say it. His silence is loud in a way her talking is not. He says a thousand words in none, while she says none in a thousand. They are polar opposites, and yet—somehow, they coexist rather easily.

She sings, occasionally. He doesn’t join in, but he sometimes hums along, and the slight tap of his fingers to the beat makes it clear he knows the song as well as she does.

Their taste in music is the same. He doesn’t complain about a single song in her repertoire, and considering the amount of times she’s sung every one of them, that’s saying something. The lyrics are likely incorrect, and her high notes are _definitely_ off key, but it doesn’t matter. It’s nice.

She tries to get him to join her, once. He refuses. 

She tries again. Again and again and again. Eventually he must get tired of her asking, because he tries to broker a deal.

“If I sing with you once, will you stop asking?” he inquires with a sigh.

“Yes,” she says with a grin. “So long as you give it a try, I’ll leave you alone. You can’t know if you don’t like something if you never try it, after all. Who knows, you may actually find yourself enjoying it!”

He grumbles something unintelligible before he answers. “I pick the song.”

“Fine by me! You start,” she says, “I’ll follow your lead.”

His singing voice is nice, smooth and low. He’s not able to hit the high notes any better than she can—if anything, he’s worse. But his low notes ring true, the other half of the duet she never knew she had been previously singing solo.

She doesn’t sing for a while after that. He doesn’t comment on it, but occasionally she’ll catch him still tapping along to the beat of a song that only plays in his head.

She hears it just as clearly as he does, and sometimes she taps along with him. He rewards her with a slight upturn of his lips when she does, and she matches it with a smile of her own. 

He was a swimmer. It’s something she learns from an offhand comment as she reminisces about her time in the volleyball team. It’s funny, because at first glance he doesn’t look like an athlete. He’s lean and wiry, and doesn’t give off the typical energy of a sports fiend. Then again, people said she always had a cooler head on the court, so perhaps he came to life in the water the way she did while spiking a ball across the net.

They seem to be opposite in a lot of things. He was an artist. She had debated joining the art club (lord knows the music club wouldn’t want her singing voice), but something about photography had called to her instead. 

“It’s a shame you don’t have any supplies here,” she says. “If I had my camera, I could take some cool shots for you to paint. I was always really good at landscapes.”

“I prefer painting people,” He hums. “You would have made a striking painting.”

“If only we had met earlier,” she says.

They both know as soon as the words come out of her mouth that it would be impossible. They are the same. So different, but somehow still the same. 

_If I am you and you are me, then who are we?_

She doesn’t know, but they have an eternity to figure it out. An eternity, just a couple of hollow, nostalgic fools, their thoughts, an empty ocean, and a door that always drags them back.

She wouldn’t have it any other way, and she knows he feels the same. She knows because Minako Arisato knows Minato Arisato very well. She is him and he is her. They are two very different people with two very different names, who took very different journeys with the same soul and the same final destination.

He is the beginning and she is the end. You can hide from it, pretend not to see it, run from it, but death still comes knocking at your door. And every time it does, they will be waiting there to stop it, drifting and swimming in an endless sea, lock and key, two halves of the same whole, the great seal. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Have I said how much both of p3's MCs have stolen my heart? No? Well now I have.


End file.
